


in any other world

by kamisado



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5 canon-divergent aus, 5+1 Things, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamisado/pseuds/kamisado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everything’s about you, Oikawa. It’s always about you.” His voice is calm and level and dangerous. He’s not wrong. “Don’t bother trying to fix this.”</p><p>He walks away.</p><p>[in five versions of the universe, there is no happy ending. a classic 5+1 what if? fic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	in any other world

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day everyone! have some iwaoi angst+fluff! 
> 
> title taken from 'in any other world' by mika which singlehandedly inspired this fic.

In one version of the universe, Oikawa and Iwaizumi never become friends. They know each other, of course, the town's far too small for them not to cross paths now and again, but there's never a reason for them to be any more than acquaintances. Every now and again, for a fleeting moment, Oikawa wonders what it would be like to speak to Iwaizumi Hajime, that guy in his class with the dark messy hair who chews through the ends of pencils like his life depends on it. He wonders if they’d have anything in common at all.

Oikawa can’t help but feel like something is missing. He has friends, sure, but never a _best friend._ Most of the people he hangs out with can't see past the bravado and cockiness, and honestly, Oikawa finds it exhausting to keep up such an act. Every day, as soon as he gets home from school, the smile falls away and his limbs feel leaden.

In this version of the universe, Oikawa still takes up volleyball, but his dedication wanes too much for the team to take him seriously. He makes the B-team; he subs in the odd match. His grades are woefully mediocre, with no incentive to try any harder, and nobody around to force him to actually sit down and do his algebra homework for that one math class he can’t get his head around.

His life is pedestrian, ordinary, and he can't help thinking that he was made for something _more._

*

In one version of the universe, Oikawa hits Kageyama. He only gets one punch in, but it's more enough. Regret floods through his body immediately, but the damage has already been done. Kageyama's nose explodes into blood; he hits the floor hard. Oikawa wants to feel proud, vindicated, but it's hard to do that when there's a kid barely in his teens crying on the ground.

Unsurprisingly, Oikawa's parents are called in. Worse than that, he's suspended from the volleyball club until further notice. Had it not been for his good reputation before then, he’d have been suspended from school on the spot. It’s only then he begins to realise the gravity of the situation as he’s pressing on the bruises on his knuckles outside the principal’s office, watching the red fade into purple and yellow. He feels sick at the sight. It really wasn’t worth it, because now Kageyama will take his place full time, and he’ll keep getting better and better and better. And Oikawa will atrophy on the sidelines. He wonders if he’ll still get into the high schools he wants to, now that this is on his record; he slumps forward, head down.

Worst of all, Iwaizumi won’t speak to him. Oikawa reckons that he should have expected this but there’s something deeply unsettling about the lengths to which Iwaizumi is avoiding him. This is new; Oikawa annoys Iwaizumi on a near-daily basis but it never pans out like this. It’s days later at the end of the school day when Oikawa finally catches up to him. Since the incident, Iwaizumi has always snuck off to practice as quick as he could, but today Oikawa is running after him, shouting his name.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever!” Oikawa yells, silently cursing his inability for sincerity even at a time like this. “Iwa-chan!” Oikawa is close enough to touch Iwaizumi, and reaches out to grab his shoulder, as if Iwaizumi just hasn’t heard him, as if nothing had happened. But at that, Iwaizumi stops in his tracks and whips round, grabbing Oikawa’s arm, throwing it aside. For once in his life, Oikawa’s entirely lost for words. He’s seen Iwaizumi upset, he’s seen him angry before, but never like this. There’s something dark in his eyes, disgust and fury and disappointment. Much, much later, Oikawa realises that this emotion so unfamiliar in Iwaizumi’s eyes was pure hatred.

“ _If you’re going to hit it, hit it ‘til it breaks._ That’s what you always say, right?” Something twists inside Oikawa sharply, but he holds his ground. Iwaizumi’s friends keep walking, unwilling to get dragged into this mess. Once upon a time, Oikawa would have called them _his_ friends too, but nobody wants anything to do with him now. “Well you’ve broken it now; it’s well and truly _fucked.”_ On the last word, Iwaizumi shoves Oikawa hard in the chest. Oikawa knows he should have expected it, but he still stumbles backwards. He wants to shove back, but he’s done enough, and he would never hit Iwa-chan. No, he deserves this; Iwaizumi has a right to take this out on him.

“Have you got nothing to say?” Iwaizumi spits, as he shoves Oikawa again, so hard he topples to the ground hard. There’s nobody around to see this, and Oikawa’s glad of it. He has guilt enough for hitting his underclassman, disappointing his school, his parents, his team. But he has to do penance for Iwa-chan most of all, and this is the only way he knows how.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa chokes out, but even to his ears it’s not enough. Iwaizumi’s face contorts, Oikawa can’t tell if he’s about to cry or spit on him or kick dirt in his face, but in the end Iwaizumi does nothing.

“Everything’s about you, Oikawa. It’s always about you.” His voice is calm and level and dangerous. He’s not wrong.

“Don’t bother trying to fix this.”

He walks away.

*

In one version of the universe, Oikawa goes to Shiratorizawa Academy. On the first day, he pushes open the doors to the gym and is greeted by Ushijima and a beaming smile. The anxiety which had been creeping into his chest dissipates a little, a weight lifted. A volleyball comes hurtling towards him, and he drops his water bottle to receive it back to the person who'd served it, a sleepy-looking guy with red hair.

 _I've made the right decision_ , he thinks as the team goes from strength to strength. Ushijima is an awkward guy, but he's a good volleyball player and more importantly a good captain.

In the prelims of their last year at high school, they're put against Aobajousai fairly early on. They haven’t played Aobajousai before; they never make it very far and Shiratorizawa usually don’t have to play all the prelims. Oikawa waves enthusiastically at Iwaizumi as they troop into the gymnasium but the truth is they haven't exactly stayed in touch after middle school. _These things happen_ , he tells himself, but it still hurts when Iwaizumi looks him dead in the eye as they bow and turns away.

It's even more uncomfortable when Shiratorizawa win in straight sets, Aobajousai barely making it into the teens each time. Iwaizumi won't even raise his eyes from the ground after the match, his bottom lip quivering almost imperceptibly. Oikawa can only tell Iwaizumi’s about to cry because he knows him too damn well, but he hates that he doesn’t know him well enough any more to go over there and slap him on the back and tell him that it’s not over. Because it really is over now.

As they walk off the court, Oikawa wonders about all the things he doesn’t know about Iwa-chan any more. Does he still like math and hate literature? Does he still cry at that one commercial with the dog, and neglect all of his responsibilities when a Godzilla movie is on? Does he have a new best friend?

The questions bubble up inside him like stomach acid rising in his throat, and he suddenly decides he has to find these answers out himself. It’s a snap decision, and he finds himself running from the gymnasium, Aobajousai’s team already gone. Ushijima calls after him half-heartedly, but he knows Oikawa made his choice long ago.

But he’s too late.

The bus is already pulling away by the time he skids onto the tarmac, he can only see glimpses of white sports jackets inside. He balls his hands into fists, and wills the tears in his eyes to fade away, but just as he’s about to turn back inside, he sees a face in the back window of the bus. It’s almost too far away to see any more, and Oikawa wishes his vision was just that little bit better. But he’d recognise that hair anywhere. He waves, huge sweeping arcs with both arms like he’s trying to ground air traffic.

He swears he sees Iwaizumi wave back.

*

In one version of the universe, Oikawa's volleyball career is over before it even really begins. He knew all too well he was pushing himself, but just _one more set_ , _one more serve_. It's an all too familiar mantra rushing through his mind when he's in the gym well into the early hours of the morning. _One more set, one mo-_

He just didn't expect it to be all over so quickly.

He's flat on his back, dazed and confused, the back of his head filled with a sharp stabbing pain. He didn't know just how long he'd been out, but it couldn't have been _that_ long. Could it? _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. He'd fainted before from overdoing it, and he'd always hated the feeling of not knowing what had happened, of losing control. But as he tries to pull himself into a sitting position, he sees something is very wrong with his left leg. It was already his bad knee, but now the lower half of his leg is pointing outwards unnaturally, the kneecap slid round to somewhere where it _really_ shouldn't be.

Panic floods into his chest; he goes woozy as the pain suddenly catches up to him. _Thank God for Iwa-chan_ , he thinks as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, bile rising into his throat, fingers clumsy. He tries not to look at his leg, but it's just so grotesque his eyes keep flickering back towards it, like driving past a horrible road accident.

After what feels like hours but was probably only minutes, Iwaizumi shows up with an ambulance in tow. Oikawa can't make out the words, but Iwaizumi sounds furious. He closes his eyes; he can't handle a lecture right now. But then he's being roughly shaken and when he opens his eyes Iwaizumi is inches from his face.

"Oikawa! Come on, you're gonna be okay!" Oikawa's half surprised to hear his real name and not the usual _Shittykawa_. Something must really be wrong. But when Oikawa meets Iwaizumi's eyes, guilt stabs him hard. There's not a trace of anger in his expression, just abject terror. It's one thing messing things up for himself, but Oikawa vows never to see that look in Iwaizumi's eyes ever again. He'll take blazing fury any day.

Oikawa can't suppress the yell as the paramedics lift him off the floor, no amount of pain relief strong enough to counter the pain radiating from his left knee. Iwaizumi squeezes his hand in the back of the ambulance, but they both know what this means.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to play volleyball again."

Oikawa had expected nothing less, but it still guts him. It's as if everything inside of him that he needs to survive has been dragged out across the cracked car park and left for birds to peck.

Week after week, Iwaizumi sits on the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the hospital waiting room, waiting for the physiotherapist to work her magic. Week after week, Oikawa plasters on a smile, praying for improvement, and each time he comes out of that room pale and pinched, doing his best to hide the limp but can't hide the crutches holding him up. The smile's still there but strained. It doesn't reach his eyes.

Week after week, as soon as they reach the hospital exit, Oikawa bursts into tears, and Iwaizumi can't do a damn thing about it.

*

In one version of the universe, Oikawa goes to a university far, far from Iwaizumi.

Oikawa had opened his stupid mouth just before he'd left to tell Iwaizumi how he'd felt. But he'd left it too damn late. In retrospect, it was his own fault for waiting until the train to take him far away from Miyagi was literally pulling into the station, but he hadn't even waited for poor Iwaizumi to reply. It had just happened - "Iwa-chan, I really really like you and more than just a friend" - but he didn't have time to say anything else, or register anything more than utter shock.

And by the time he's found a seat on the crowded train, it's pulling away, and he can't even see Iwaizumi's face. Just a flash of turquoise and white in the crowd and he's gone.

Oikawa's thumb hovers over the call button for a while, but he can't bring himself to do it. Besides, the signal keeps dropping and he's messed up quite enough for one day for the call to suddenly drop out. But nothing he types onto the screen seems adequate. He's about to settle on a simple _i'm sorry_ when the phone buzzes. Oikawa's heart pounds in his throat; he wants to be sick.

_You're my best friend Oikawa but I think we're both sensible enough to know this would never work. I'm sorry._

It's as if something in him has snapped, like the rope tethering him to shore has unravelled and now he's drifting loose in the ocean. He stares blankly at the message for what feels like an age before he realises his hands are shaking.

They try to stay in touch, but there’s so much unsaid in every stilted message. So much of what Oikawa wants to say he can’t put into the short field of a text message. He toys with the idea of calling Iwaizumi, pouring his heart out over the phone, but he knows how insincere he can seem, and besides, Iwa-chan’s response was pretty blunt.

 _You should know better,_ that’s what the subtext was. _You should know better than to say something like this and run away._ He may have been brave on the volleyball court, but deep down Oikawa Tooru was a coward.

Oikawa tries to make it go away, the longing ache for Iwaizumi’s presence. He throws himself into work and volleyball, he drinks himself silly at every party he’s invited to, he sleeps with anyone who’s interested. Night after night after night.

Eventually, he stops missing Iwaizumi. He stops feeling as if he’s going to be sick any time he’s scrolling through his phone and accidentally glances at his name.

He stops feeling anything at all.

The guy he brings home one night looks just like Iwaizumi, and once it’s over and he’s lying in bed pretending to sleep, he can’t stop his shoulders from shaking from the sobs.

*

But in one version of the universe, the one that actually matters, none of these happen.

Oikawa meets Iwaizumi in kindergarden, when they're four. Oikawa is crying in the sandpit because he wants to go home and Iwaizumi, in a last-ditch attempt to make the godawful noise stop, thrusts his favourite toy firetruck at the poor kid. Iwaizumi always had that knack for making people feel better, Oikawa realised, many years later.

They go to elementary school together, then to Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High, where they take up volleyball. And when Oikawa feels threatened by the young setter threatening to usurp him, Iwaizumi's on hand to knock some sense into him. Iwaizumi could always tell this wasn’t just jealousy; there was some deep-seated self-loathing in there, wrapped in an idiotic selfish streak and a bad temper. Oikawa always knew Iwaizumi knew him better than he knew himself.

Then Aobajousai High, despite the constancy of Ushijima's prodding and Oikawa's second-guessing. They never do beat Shiratorizawa, but Oikawa learns to make peace with it. There are evenings when the resentment threatens to rise up inside him, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him years later, but he forces it down, with a smile. He looks across at Iwaizumi splayed on the couch, a textbook covering his face as he snores, and knows he made the right choice.

And in the lead-up to their third year Spring final, Iwaizumi's there when Oikawa's threatening to overdo it. The most infinitesimal wobble in Oikawa’s step one evening, and Iwaizumi hauls him off the court. _No more volleyball for now,_ he says, and there’s no arguing at the tone in his voice. They play Mario Kart together that night instead, and Iwaizumi tries not to focus too hard on the ink-dark smudges under Oikawa’s eyes.

Then university in Tokyo, together. They’d been poring over university applications together one night, cross-legged on the floor of Oikawa’s bedroom when the words came rushing out, mid-conversation.

"Iwa-chan, I really really like you and more than just a friend.” Iwaizumi stared at him, eyes wide. Oikawa braced himself from the inevitable blow, the angry speech about how awful his personality was. He expected nothing less. But the blow never came. Iwaizumi had flushed redder than Oikawa had ever seen him before, and although he could tell Iwaizumi was desperate to brush it off with anger, Oikawa’s statement hung in the air, astonishingly genuine.

Their apartment is small and drafty, and Oikawa determinedly puts up more extra-terrestrial posters faster than Iwaizumi can take them all down, but it's _home_. Tiny bonsai trees line the living room window, and the kitchen constantly smells of burnt food because turns out neither of them can cook in any way. Glow-in-the-dark stars litter the ceiling, and they pick them out of their hair when the stickers curl in on themselves and fall down.

But it’s during those late nights in the middle of the semester, when there are essays due and matches to practice for, when they huddle under blankets and watch bad kaiju movies, when they hold hands and tell bad jokes…

Oikawa knows he wouldn't want it any other way.


End file.
